


Lost Stars

by IntrovertedWriter



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-22 16:15:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9615605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntrovertedWriter/pseuds/IntrovertedWriter
Summary: He loved stars. They said everything was subjective, a matter of opinion and perspective. But this love he held for them, it was never a choice, it had always been a fact. Shirogane Takashi loved stars. It was in the cold nights that he’d spend under them that he promised himself that one day he would no longer have to tilt his head to see them. And one day, he no longer had to. No longer had to tilt his head towards the sky to see them, because he was there along with them. His first mission to Kerberos under the Galaxy Garrison was everything he'd imagined it to be. The problem was, it was also everything he hadn't counted on.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first piece for the Voltron fandom and it was done as a gift for the Voltron Valentine’s Day Exchange in Tumblr. My giftee was @dappercapricorn and their expressed preference was for the character of Shiro who also happens to be one of my favorites. So this was the result. Despite the archive warnings, there is only mention of violence and it is not too explicit (in my opinion). You will note that in between the paragraphs of the story, there’s italicized text in between ~. These are song lyrics, since upon finishing the piece I thought back to this one song when naming it, Lost Stars by Adam Levine. It is a great song so I’d definitely recommend a listen. Forgive me if this is kind of shitty or OOC. Anyhow, so long as not vicious, I’d love to hear your thoughts/suggestions/ in the comments bellow!

~ 

Please don't see just a boy caught up in dreams and fantasies

Please see me reaching out for someone I can't see

~   


He loved stars. They said everything was subjective, a matter of opinion and perspective. But this love he held for them, it was never a choice, it had always been a fact. Shirogane Takashi loved stars. Even now, he could clearly remember the cold nights on earth when he'd sneak out to sit on the roof despite his mother's protests that it was too late and cold to be out. But watching the sight before him, sitting underneath the dark blanket full of stars was worth it. He could sit there for hours, staring up in such a pure, unadulterated awe, that the next morning, his neck would be numb. It was his thing all throughout his life. Times changed, he changed, but his love for the stars? It never did. No matter how many times constellations would become visible and then invisible to his eyes, if there was one thing he could be sure of, it was of them. He knew them better than he knew himself. It was on those cold nights with gentle breezes on his roof that he promised himself that one day, he wouldn't have to tilt his head up to see them. 

His favorite constellations were more than stars. That was not to say stars were not amazing themselves, but Shiro found that the ones that aroused unfathomable awe within him were those that depicted stories of brave warriors, of heroes. The stars that depicted their legacies and immortalized them. Orion the Hunter. Heracles, conqueror of the 12 impossible tasks set to him by Eurystheus. Perseus, savior of Andromeda and defeater of Medusa. They had begun as men. Just. Men. Men with flaws, sins, sorrows, desires...but they had become something else. They had become something beyond. They were warriors, heroes that went beyond and traveled the distance. And to see their triumph, to see their stories immortalized in the sky each passing night...it was amazing. He'd once heard that men were just stars, just as stars were men. Ashes to atoms and dust to stardust. Men began in dust, and they would end reduced to nothing more than dust. But dust, it made up so many things...He was sure that they had to come back one way or the other. But if he was given a say in how, he'd wish for this. For all his life, his struggle, his triumph to be immortalized in the night sky. Shirogane Takashi was just a man. A man with sins, sorrows, flaws, sins...But most importantly, he was a man full of dreams. And each passing night, as his dark lashes brushed the skin above his cheeks, he could see them behind his closed lids. Stars. Or rather, one star. His star. The one that depicted him as the hero he longed to be. The one that immortalized all the good he wanted to do in this world. 

~ 

Take my hand let's see where we wake up tomorrow

~ 

He'd made it. He'd reached them. Reached the stars. He no longer had to tilt his head towards the sky to see them, because he was there along with them. His first mission to Kerberos under the Galaxy Garrison was everything he'd imagined it to be. The problem was, it was also everything he hadn't counted on. 

~ 

Best laid plans sometimes are just a one night stand

~ 

Their ship had swooped in with the ease of the impending doom that flourished in their chests. Within minutes, they were taken. How had they gotten this far? They'd been one with the stars, and next thing they knew...it wasn't the sight of them around them that greeted them, but the cold metal floor of the cell of this unknown ship. He knew he couldn't be a hero this time. So he pleaded, asked, begged them for answers. After all, what could they want from three meekly human scientists that they didn't already have? But he wasn't met with answers. He was met with strikes. Strikes that blossomed into vibrant red marks in his cheeks. 

~ 

So let's get drunk on our tears and  
God, tell us the reason youth is wasted on the young   
It's hunting season and the lambs are on the run   
Searching for meaning 

~   


"Did we say you could speak?!" 

That was just the beginning. Strikes now seemed like a caress to his person. The bellowed words that had once made him run to hug his mother's legs as a child were now nothing compared to the words screamed at him by the Galra. If anyone questioned whether they were human before, despite their purple skin, there was no doubt now. For what human could be so devoid of humanity? But it wasn't their ministrations on him that broke him. It was the screams. Their screams. What they did to him didn't hurt as much as what they didn't. What they did to them. The weapons that dug deep into his skin, the weapons that clutched onto it and when they came off, took it with them...It wasn't as painful. It wasn't as painful as hearing their pained cries, their frantic screams and knowing that he couldn't help. What kind of person was he, let alone a hero, if he couldn't even protect those he cared about? He could barely save himself. 

But no, no. He couldn't allow himself to fall into his nadir. Not when he was in so deep in a hell intent on dragging him to the ground. So he lied. There were three kinds of lies in this world; secrets hushed in the dark, lies to others, and most importantly, lies to oneself. He lied. He lied to Sam, to Matt and most of all, he lied to himself. He told himself that one day, he'd be able to get them all out. Told himself that heroes were not perfect, ethereal beings, but were also flawed. That one day, they'd be out of this hellhole. Matt, Samuel, and him...they'd be free. He told them to himself so much that he forgot to see these earnest wishes for what they were. Lies. 

~ 

Who are we? Just a speck of dust within the galaxy?  
Woe is me, if we're not careful turns into reality

~ 

He believed they had taken all he had to give. All he had ever known was gone. Or so he thought. But, they kept taking. If they were anything like humans, they were alike in their greed. They took what he wasn't willing to give. The first thing they took was his dignity. It came off with the same pain that came with the cutting and stretching of skin that they loved to inflict upon him. They took his friends. Sent them far where their fates were uncertain and left him to suffer as he wondered what became of them. Let him repent all which he had not done. All that he had failed to do and more. They took his morals the second they shoved him into that arena. He became someone he no longer recognized, someone bloodthirsty, willing to put other through the same pain, the same shame and the same fear he felt blossom in his chest each time he heard the feet outside his cell. He no longer lied to himself. He no longer found comfort in the sins of men. He no longer considered himself one. His emotions, his dreams his ambitions, his morals...were they there still? Were they buried within him still, or were they lost to space? He vaguely wondered. If he had anything left, he'd notice it being ripped away from him soon. Such was the case with the next thing the Galra took. They took his arm. 

The last extension of every mundane little thing that made him Shiro, that which made him human...it disappeared. It was ripped off his body and replaced with something new and foreign. He wasn't human anymore. He could no longer call himself a man, nor aspire to be a man who overcame the dark nature of himself, sins and flaws. He could not aspire to be a hero, couldn't be the Heracles in his own life. Each time he looked down to his arm, now gone and replaced with a Galra creation, he was reminded of this. He was no Heracles. He was no hero, but the monster in the myth. He was the hydra, with its monstrous nature. He was a monster. One that could not protect anything it cherished, as he was their own downfall. As his arm, this last extension of him, of who he was was taken away from him, he knew that the Galra had not only taken his arm. They had taken his humanity and dreams along with it. 

With time, the fact that he had lied to himself became more prominent. And facing the truth of this lie hurt more than anything ever before. It hurt more than the strikes he'd received. This kind of hurt did not, however, leave an angry red imprint in the skin of his face. Instead, it left an imprint in his heart. It took shape in a new burden he had to bear. One that seemed much heavier that that one of Atlas. 

But, amidst all the lies, there was a truth. He made it out of this hell. 

~   


Turn the page maybe we'll find a brand new ending  
Where we're dancing in our tears

~   


He knew not the how. But it didn't matter. He was out. The nightmares still plagued him and he woke up in cold sweat, eyes looking wildly around the room. But that's all they were. Nightmares. Despite the fear that overcame him in the dark, he could not recall much anything. He didn't know whether this was a blessing or a curse. 

They made it easier on him. The other paladins. Lance, Hunk, Pidge and Keith...they made him want to forget all that he was. All that he had become. They pieced him back together, if only for their sake. Piloting the black lion, it gave him back so many things he had thought lost. Amongst all, his morals. His desire, no, his ambition to do good. They were the embodiment of this and he couldn't help but feel what he was doing was worthwhile. Defenders of the Universe, they called themselves. 

"Defenders of the Universe, huh?" he murmured to himself, "It has a nice ring to it." 

~   


But are we all lost stars, trying to light up the dark?   


~ 

The Galra had might have taken everything away from him. But the paladins of Voltron gave him back the stars in his eyes. And who knew, maybe someday there would be a star that lit up the night sky. His constellation, no, theirs. Lance's, Keith's, Hunk's Pidge's and his. The constellation that would depict them, the paladins of Voltron. The constellation of stars would depict their friendship, their courage, and their kindness and immortalize it in the night sky for all to see. Just... maybe.


End file.
